Infection's Just a Euphemism
by Sileloquence
Summary: Even before the infection hit, Dave and Carrie's quarrels got the best of them, but after it's started how will they fare? Rated for language and violence.
1. When Romance Fizzles Out

**Author's Note: I do not own Left 4 Dead. Valve does... and all that copyright stuff... I do own my OCs though. O_O**

When Romance Fizzles Out

We were taught as kids to be nice and share, but I never really saw the point in all that. As a child, I never saw people as real people with souls, minds, hearts; I never saw them as living, thinking, caring creatures. And I shouldn't have been expected to, when they thought the same about me. If they want to treat me like shit, I'll treat them like shit; that's the way it always was, that's the way it always is. No, I don't want people to spread their all high and mighty wisdom; how they keep tabs on their little sinning bins, only filled with the smallest of sins; how they'll be saved by that divine being. I don't believe in the big man up above, and all that jazz. I'm just going to disappear. I'll disappear and be forgotten like all normal human beings. I'm not an ink stain; I'm a faint pencil mark. There won't be any lasting repercussions from my actions; I'll just handle my own small affairs. No trickling water spout ever caused a flood.

As I've said, I live by the rule of an eye for an eye when I can. Way back when, they called it Hammurabi's code. Way back when, if someone shot my wife, law would allow me to shoot theirs. Worked the same way with animals, and if the person who hurt my animal didn't have an animal, I'd be able to hurt the next best thing. Shame it didn't last. If it did, the world wouldn't have selfish dicks, such as myself at times. Now, it's more of a metaphorical "you stab me, I'll stab you" world, only I get screwed over by others most of the time and the corrupt law around here makes it impossible for me to get any sort payback in terms of suing and all those lawful nonviolent methods. Like I thought as a child, most people have no souls, minds, or hearts. But, I've had to change my view on some people over the twenty-five years of life I've been given. I guess I have to resign to the fact that some people have feelings (Big woop). Hell, I was forced to resign to the fact that my wife had more feelings than others; a lot more feelings than others.

"Slow down! Will you only listen, when I'm on the verge of getting a heart attack? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Meet my sweet, sweet wife Carrie. She was passenger side driving again like in every car ride we have. My own driving isn't in the palm of my hands; it's in hers.

"Yes, but it never seems to work, now does it," that's what I wanted to say; that's what I would have said, if I wanted die right then. She'd have slapped me in the face and thrown me out of the car into the path of an oncoming vehicle.

"Did you just see that guy? Did you see how he crossed over to our lane," Carrie asked. Why did I marry this woman? That's what I asked myself. We hit it off with a bang, most couples do. But, now, it felt like I mistook this stranger for a wife. Our commons turned into outright challenges of who was better than each other at this or that. Yes, it was probably this that brought us together, but it's this that's now tearing us apart. Our competitiveness is outmatching our connection. Three years is all that connection's lasted so far. How much longer till it dies out? I returned an answer to her qualms about the driver in front of us.

"He didn't cross over; he was in the bounds of his own lane," I said.

"Dave, I know what I saw," she responded.

"And I know what I saw. Can you just shut- be quiet for the rest of the car ride," I said, trying, but half-failing to bite down my frustration.

"Can I just shut up for the rest of the car ride? No, no I don't think I can," she responded. Everything was always difficult; it was typical, difficult Carrie; she always fought over even the stupidest things just so she could win in the battle of tongues.

"I would really appreciate it, really, if you would just stop trying to control everything," I said.

"Me? Controlling? What? Poor baby can't handle a little criticism?"

"Poor baby?" I did a double take. "Will I take that out of context and call you an old hag? Yes, I think I will."

"An old hag? What the fuck, Dave? Is that a crack at my age? I'm only a year older than you."

"A year too old, if you ask me."

"Well, no one's asking you. Don't expect me to greet a single one of your demands with open arms…Great relationship this is… I'm so, so sorry I don't meet your expectations," she said.

"It was just a joke. A sarcastic remark," I said guiltily. "Come on; don't get all stuck up on me."

"Just shut up and drive, Dave," she finished. Well, I got her to stop talking at least. Tonight's going to be like every other night this month. Since the start of this month, she's acted worse than if it were that time of the month. I'm going to be given the cold shoulder and cold food. "Make it yourself," she'd say. Same old sandwich with nearly stale rye bread…Same soggy meat, however many days old. If only the fridge had fresh food when I got to it…

The car shifted a bit to the side as my lethargy brought itself to attention.

"Damnit Dave. Dave! Shit!" I noticed the car was misplaced in a different lane. I wonder who could've done that. I swerved to the legal lane as the other car honked its horn and the driver showed me a sign of his "gratitude."

"Pull over… Pull over!" Carrie held my shoulder, "You're not fit to drive right now." I followed her orders and stumbled as I exited the car making my way towards the passenger side. She yanked the keys from my hands as we crossed paths. I got in the car and dozed off consenting to myself that I'd have to peel my face off the car window once I woke up an hour or so later in the driveway of our shabby house.

* * *

**I'm doing some character buildup in the first chapters. I don't want to just jump you guys into the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse without getting to know the characters a bit first. Seems a bit strange to be like poof this guy's wounded, but who the hell is he? Don't worry there'll be blood and guts soon. xD Sadistic little bastards... :)  
**


	2. Euphemisms like Infections

Euphemisms like infections

I felt someone nudge my shoulder. Back at our shabby house? No. I pulled my eyes out of there pitch black sleep and into the stinging light of a cop's flashlight. A cop? Why was a cop pulling us over? Had Carrie's superior driving failed? There had been no crash, else I would've woken up during the abrupt change to the car's body. It was unlikely that Carrie would've sped seeing as she pestered me not too long ago about slowing down. So, what reason was there for this cop to pull us over with his lights on? And, what happened to the siren? I'd have woken up if it sounded. Strange. Lights, but no siren.

"Ma'am, we need you and your passenger to reroute yourselves to the local high school. If you haven't heard on the radio, the government's having us send all local residents there," the cop said to Carrie. He seemed familiar.

"Bobby Richardson…?" I awkwardly asked for affirmation. I hadn't been that close with this guy. We'd been nothing more than acquaintances in high school, so I'd understand if he'd forgotten me, but familiarity would help for more info on whatever was going on.

"You… your from the Class of '01, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm-"

"Don't tell me. Name starts with an M, right?" How awkward…

"No…it's Dave"

"Oh yeah… Dave…Dave…David…David Right, right? As in you're right. I'm wrong." Pun failure…

"Yeah...Yeah that's it…" I did an obvious fake laugh.

"Cute…" Carrie piped up. "Though it does nothing to show any actual meaning towards what he says."

"Isn't she so cute?" I said in a rhetorical question, half laughing, half biting back embarrassment and anger.

"Yeah…Yeah that's what I am" she mocked my earlier mid sentence fake laugh. Oh, how mature.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I don't recognize you from somewhere else, Dave. Means you haven't been up to anything illegal," he awkwardly half-laughed trying to ignore the awkwardness of this euphemistic argument between Carrie and me.

"Yeah…I guess so…," I said. Carrie cleared her throat, signal for an introduction. "Oh… and this is Carrie…my wife," I introduced him to my stranger, my wife.

"Nice meeting you Bobby," Carrie said in her completely fake nice voice reserved for those outside our home.

"Nice to meet you too, although I wish the circumstances would have been better," Bob reminded me of my original intent of familiarity. "Didn't think this guy would find himself such a…charming lady for a wife."

"Yeah… charming…" I earned a raised eyebrow as well as a short glare from Carrie. "Anyway… What's this about sending locals to the school? Why do we have to go there?"

"I've only been told random, vague bits of info. Not really supposed to give that out either," he responded in the same vagueness of what he described.

"Come on Officer Richardson, can't even tell me the slightest detail?"

"Something about testing for an infection," he responded after a long look of this-is-going-to-bite-me-in-the-ass-later passed over his face. "The government's set up something in the school, since the hospital's already filled.

"Alright then…," I said, not bothering to ask questions about the infection since they'd receive no useful answer.

"We'll make our way over there. Bye Officer," Carrie said as she began turning around to head in the direction of the school.

"Drive safe," he said back.

Bobby headed back to his cop car to wait for the next car to come up the hill away from the school. Carrie gave me a look that said screamed "WTF!?!?"

"There's no way, we're going to that school. The fuck if I'm getting quarantined," I said.

"You don't even know if you have that 'infection.' But, I agree, we should avoid any sort of contamination by others," Carrie responded. "But, there's bound to be more cops waiting by other intersections… so… what's your big plan, Mr. Right?"

"We drive as fucking fast as we can past the cops," she agreed, but gave me this look that said she'd need to throw up mid losing the cops.

"Well, I'll leave the driving to you then," she parked the car at the bottom of the hill out of the view of Officer Richardson and quickly hopped into the passenger side seat as I got out of the car and ran to the driver's seat fully renewed from my sleepiness by the excitement that was sure to follow.


End file.
